And She Rose Up Again
by Rising Phoenix3
Summary: JackOC: Jack meets someone who fate has determined shall be the ultimate treasure. The question is the ultimate treasure as to what. Short right now, but will get much longer.
1. And She Will Rise

~~Disclaimer: I do not own anything with the exception of any characters I create.~~  
  
The darkness sheathed her from the eyes of her predators; and for this she was thankful, for the streets were dangerous when you could be seen by those who wanted you dead.   
  
Lifting her violet eyes to the night sky she breathed in lightly, wishing for the Caribbean air instead of the foul, stench ridden, air of the littered towns. Quickening her pace she walked down to the port to find sanctuary between the ships. She may not have been a captain anymore, but she still enjoyed the company of her best mates- the ships. The ships were the only ones who had never failed her; it had always been she who had failed them. And because of her carelessness she was destined to be kept from her true love, from the water and the sea, and from her freedom. She was doomed to wander in the town, fighting for her life. It was pitiful how far she had fallen, but that could not be helped now.  
  
Pushing her long, raven tresses off her face, she sat down between the ships, wondering how long she could sleep before she would be caught. Not long, she estimated for dawn's rose fingers would touch the sky soon and it would be just her luck to be discovered and thrown over to the authorities. But still, she was so tired . . . just a little while. With that she curled into a fetal position, and sleep graced her eyelids, though her hand never strayed from her sword.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jack sighed with contentment; he had been away from the company of his rum for far to long now. Slumping farther down against his chair, he sighed again as the warmth from his drink coated his entrails and made him tingly inside. 'Tis a nice feeling, alright, Jack thought before he felt his head begin to fall over and sleep beg to kiss his lids.  
  
"Port in sight! I say, PORT IN SIGHT!" Gibbs bellowed out. "Capt'n, we've reached-"  
  
"Yes, I know-port. Ye needn't say it more'n once, Gibbs." Jack answered wryly. I may 'av been drink in me cabin, but I ain't so deaf. In fact when ye drunk your sense of hearing is heightened," Jack muttered, rubbbing his head as it throbbed from every sound.  
  
"Sorry, but I never know what ye be doing. I didna want to walk in on you an' risk 'aving me head blown off by ye pistol."  
  
Jack turned back to his cabin, muttering, "Ye'd be losing more then ye head if ye bother me while I was spending time with me sweet rum. Ye lucky I don't feel like embarrassing ye in front of the whole damned crew."  
  
Rolling his head in circles to relieve some of the tension in his shoulders and neck, Jack thought about what he would do that day. Port meant town, which meant rum and other things of entertainment.  
  
It was still night, so he could dock his ship and still have fewer worries about being taken in by authorities. Frowning, he picked up the empty bottle of rum and turned it over watching but one drop cling to the rim. Sighing, he bellowed out to his crew, "PORT! Dock now, Capt'n has got some place to be" 


	2. Fate and Destiny:Do Not Mock Them

~~Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the characters I create.~~  
  
"Ah! Time for me rum at last . . ." Jack thought as he descended from the Black Pearl. In anticipation of drowning out everything with rum, he quickened his pace, and stumbled over a rather large rock, no not a rock-"  
  
Jack yelped as he was shoved backwards as the 'rock' sprang to life off its haunches like a cat and unsheathed its sword on him.  
  
"Now, now - love" Jack responded lightly when he noticed this angry person was actually a vixen of some sort. An angry vixen at that and he had not a doubt that he had disturbed her sleep. Not good, not at all.  
  
"Why did ye 'ave to go an' step on me?" The woman snappped, thrusting the blade even closer to his heart.   
  
When Jack remained silent, her eyes narrowed, giving her an ominous look. "Do ye plan on answering me ye mangy mutt? Or are ye too stupid to speak? Ye suddenly become mute?"  
  
"Now love, I see that I've disturbed ye sleep. I apologize completely." Jack gave a mock bow in hopes that'd prevent her from slitting him from navel to his jaw. "Allow me to buy ye a drink."  
  
"How very magnamious of ye," the woman replied, "but I can buy me own drink."  
  
"Can ye now?" Jack removed his hand from behind his back. In between his fingers was a little sachet, which jingled with the sound of money when he gave the bag a shake.  
  
"You bastard! How'd ye manage to take me possessions- I demand ye give it back at once, or I'll have to end this little party the easy way."  
  
"Very well, ye can 'ave ye money back, but only if ye let me buy ye a drink, just because I don't like 'aving enemies."  
  
"I'll bet," she retorted, "that while ye've been putting up this gallant facade of kindness and amiability ye've snuck ye fingers into me bag and slipped out a few coins to conveniently buy me a drink and ye one with me money. So tell me, how close am I?"  
  
"Ye wound me, love," Jack exaggerated, "to think that I would be capable of acts of such piracy. How could ye picture me looting a ship, and moreso a mere lass?"  
  
Jack said this all with such dazzling charisma that she couldn't help but laugh. "Alright. Ye win. Ye can have the honor of buying me a drink, but that's it. I don't want ta be owing you anything, got it?"  
  
"Of course. Shall we proceed to our destination?"  
  
Hesistating only slightly, she nodded and started to walk in the direction of the nearest tavern. Unfortunately her stomach grumbled loudly; she hadn't eaten in two days. She needed to save her money for more important things. It was all a matter of rationing.  
  
"Ye sure ye still only want that drink? Not any bit o' food to liven up ye drink?"  
  
"Well. . . ye did wake me in my sleep. Surely that calls for more 'n a drink."  
  
Jack smiled, "I suppose I do owe ye that. To the tavern then?"  
  
"To the tavern," she echoed faintly.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The pair sat at a small table in the back of the tavern; it was the only one available because even in the wee hours of the morning the drunks remained.  
  
"I've just realized I don't know who ye are," Jack said suddenly as he leaned back to get a better look at his guest.  
  
"Ye don't need to know anything about me. The less ye know the less obligation I 'ave to ye."  
  
"So it seems, but I can come in handy as an ally sometimes, love. Why don't ye tell me who ye are?"  
  
"Why don't ye tell me who ye are?" she mimicked. "I'll tell ye just as soon as ye tell me where ye from. If I think I can believe ye, I'll tell ye my name."  
  
"Name's Sparrow. Capt'n Jack Sparrow. Best pirate of the entire Caribbean. Hell, probably the entire world."  
  
"Ye're Sparrow?" she answered increduously. "Ye mangy mutt? I canna believe. Sparrow is said to be the wisest man to ever sail the seven seas. Sparrow is a legend, and here ye are telling me ye're him. Ye're mad, my friend, quite mad."  
  
"Ah, but ye do think me a friend, so tell me, friend, who are ye?"  
  
Narrowing her eyes, she suddenly knew that he was telling the truth. She couldn't pinpoint what it was but something in his eyes told her that he was Sparrow. She couldn't do this; she couldn't actually tell him the truth. He would laugh in her face. The prophecy that the woman had given her was insane, not worth listening to, and yet, there was something that tugged at her heart to tell him. The prophecy, if it did come true would prove to be most dangerous, if not disastrous.  
  
"Yes, ye've given me nothing but the truth in the short time I've met ye. I can only repay it by giving ye the truth, although I fear ye will laugh me in the face. First, me name is Sheridan Ferrell, and our involvement will not be a simple acquaintance. No, our meeting has been long ago destined in a prophecy. That prophecy is what I shall explain next. Do not mock it, for those who mock will suffer at the hands of fate and destiny. 


	3. The Prophecy: Part 1

~~Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the characters that I create~~  
  
Thanks to bimboobee and i love orlando bloom for reviewing. I hope I don't disappoint either one of you with my story.  
  
Six months earlier  
  
Her feet pounded against the pavement and her breaths came in shallow, intermittent gasps. Sheridan had been running for what seemed like an eternity through the alley, trying to escape the men who were, or had been, chasing her. She thought by now she would have shook them, but just to be certain she kept running, in desperation or because of a pure, primal sense of self-preservation. It was one or the other, not that she particularly cared. In truth, she was hard pressed to find anything whihc even faintly stirred any emotion within her. Her view on llife had become frighteningly apathetic.  
  
She had scarcely felt anything when she had been moving with the wind; her whole body had gone numb after a short period of time. When she stopped, however, the pain and muscle strains she had put out of her mind swelled up to a tormenting crescendo, and she collapsed in the dank alley, writhing and sobbing silent tears.  
  
She had no idea what she'd done to deserve this life, but nevertheless this was it. Scum. Living off the streets.  
  
Lying there, realizing how pitiful she must look, broken, defeated, and dirty, her pride refused to allow her to remain on the ground. Her body was bruised and sore, while every bit of her self respect was being ground, painfully, beneath her toe for each moment she remained in her submissive, weak, position.  
  
Summoning her last ounce of strength, she staggered to her feet just as a great warrior will refuse to allow his enemies to see him cowering meekly before them. When she reclaimed her balance, she hesistatingly moved forward, wary of what could be lurking in the shadows. Laughing wryly, she thought about all the 'excitement' she had had earlier in the evening.  
  
~~~Earlier~~~  
  
"Hey there, li'l miss . . . wanna show an 'ol mate a good time?"  
  
"Ye lech, back off before I show you just what 'pleasant' company I can be." Sheridan replied scathingly.  
  
"I'll take that spunk of yers any day; I like wenches who bite . . . it makes the evening much more - entertaining," the man cackled drunkenly.  
  
Shaking her head, she turned to move away, but the man had somehow summond some of his friends, and they formed a tight circle around her.  
  
"See here, lass," one of the men broke in, "we've been down on our luck, so we got no money-"  
  
"I'm so sorry," Sheridan replied derisively, "did you go out and spend ye well earned money on your mother's birthday present? Or did ye get sidetracked on the way there and buy a round of drinks for yourself instead?"  
  
"See here," the man continued, ignoring her snide comment, "we're broke and the 'entertainers' in town won't do nothing without getting paid in advance. So that leaves us to catch our own prey. Other words, ye stuck with us." The mam howled in a perverted frenzy as Sheridan felt her instincts flare up for her to get out of there.  
  
Her mind was drawing a blank on what to do to get out of her distasteful imbroglio - until she saw a piece of silver glinting from the man's belt.  
  
"Oh please, just lemme go. Ye don't want me; I'm boring, and besides I'm not experienced enough." Sheridan choked back her disgust in hopes the man would do what her plan called for. Just as Circe, Greek goddess, bewitched men with her herbs and drugs, so did Sheridan entrap this man through wiles; and he fell straight into her lair.  
  
Jerking her roughly against him, he pressed his drunken mouth against her lips. She almost gagged from his liquor ridden breath, but she fought down her revulsion and pretended to be entranced. The moment she did, the man loosened his grip slightly, thinking he had won.  
  
In that moment, Sheridan slid her hand down to his belt and covertly slipped out the silver blade. With lightening quick reflexes and shocking strength, she stabbed the knife into the man's groin, before running like hell.  
  
"Catch her," the man hissed to his companions, but like water, she evaded all of their grasps, to run her own course.  
  
~~~  
  
Shaking her head to bring her mind back to the present, Sheridan smiled sardonically. Yes, her life was grand, living hand to mouth, being treated like a meal to the drunk men of Tortuga, yep, she had it all.  
  
Dawn was displaying her radiant light show across the sky, as bursts of oranges, reds, and pinks stretched the horizon. Yet even this marvelous beauty only filled Sheridan with a morose pain. This beauty would have been much more appreciated if only she could see it at its best: at sea.  
  
That would never occur again though. She deserved this life, she realized suddenly, because she had taken the sea's glory for granted. Because of her immoral behavior towards it, her ship, Luminous Glory, had been stolen right out from under her. She couldn't blame whoever took her ship, so as long as they were treating it better than she had. She had treated Glory disrespectfully by spending more on nights out on the town than on repairs or improvements, and because of her loss, she refused to spend any more money, on 'entertainments'. Not that that mattered or helped now. Her ship was gone and any money she could get her hands on immediately went to paying to putting food in her belly.  
  
A sudden crash sounded, and Sheridan jumped out of way seconds before a heavy treasure chest fell from a window. Startled and nonplussed, she stood there with her mouth agape at the intricate details of the chest. It was the most beautiful sight, something she admired instantly, which was extremely rare for her.  
  
"You have come," a voice that was filled with such mixed emotions caused Sheridan to start. Lifting her eyes, she saw a plump middle-aged woman looking at her with wonder.  
  
"I'm sorry- I'm not sure I understand . . ." Sheridan's voice trailed off to a silence as she stared at the woman, her brow furrowing slightly. Something wasn't adding up.  
  
"I see I have startled you, for that there is no need; I can assure you," the woman stated briskly, "now come at once; the moment is wasting away." With that she turned her back to go inside.  
  
Something told Sheridan to go in, her instincts most likely, but still, she placed her hand upon her sword warily.  
  
Without turning her back the woman said, "There is no need for that sword. You're time for destruction will come soon enough. Enjoy you're innocence while you can."  
  
Shivers shot through her spine at the ominous message and she started to step back, but almost instantaneously she moved forward again. Her curiousity was spiked; she had to know. 


End file.
